This morning, I started working on a second book. I’ve done what I love to do…and I want to do it again.
I know it’s time to start because I recognize the pattern – scribbling ideas down in my “catch all” journal for the past couple of weeks, initiating conversations with close friends about this topic, head spinning with random thoughts and scriptures etc. as soon as I lay down to sleep at night and a need to pull on my rubber boots and start walking/praying as I slush through the puddles on the muddy roads around here, holding a pen and paper – just in case I come up with a grand idea.
When I started writing my first book about a year and a half ago, I had no idea what I was doing. I read somewhere that I needed to prepare a book proposal to send to publishers so I got in touch with a book proposal mentor – yes, there are such people. This person was a big help and she asked for a written recommendation, to which I agreed.
For some unknown reason, I checked out her website this morning and found this:
“I greatly appreciate Tanya’s focused and authentic care for my book proposal. She knows what she’s doing and she is passionate about your success! Diane Lindstrom, Author
Now, I can tell you for sure that I didn’t sign that recommendation with “Diane Lindstrom, Author” because I wasn’t an author back then…and I’m still not. I’m a writer who’s completed a manuscript, “handed it in” and am wondering what’s next. It’s the writing process that I love.
I attended a writers’ networking evening about a month ago and as I asked questions and listened to people’s stories, I learned that many writers have many ideas “on the go” at the same time. I guess that’s the way we’re wired – always watching…always thinking….asking…reflecting…jotting down ideas…quoting…cutting and scotch-taping. (I’m definitely “old school” )
When I look at it this way, I can confidently say that I’ve been writing since I was a little girl. I distinctly remember writing a poem for my mother when I was in Grade 2. Funny, how we remember these moments, isn’t it? I can actually picture her bedroom and the light brown night table that I proudly left that piece of crumpled paper on one morning, long ago. It was a poem about love and the moon and my shoe laces and how I loved spelling.
I couldn’t understand “tens and ones” no matter how many times my mother explained the concept to me and it took me forever to tell the time properly. I had a speech impediment so I spent a great deal of time blowing ping pong balls across a table so I would shape my mouth properly for the “w” sound and I was definitely dyslexic. But I could beat everybody in a running race and I loved to write stories.
It’s not coincidental that all my life, I have loved sports and writing. It’s definitely the way I’m wired.
I am “bent” a certain way – we all are. We aren’t born as empty slate to be written on. We are slates that that have already been written on and our tendencies shine as we get older.
I might not be able to beat everyone in a running race anymore but I still love writing….so that’s what I’m gonna’ keep doin.’
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous – how well I know it. Psalm 139.14 NLT